


Stays the Same

by themayqueen



Category: Hanson (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Break Up, Broken Engagement, Engagement, F/M, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Marriage, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-11
Updated: 2011-02-11
Packaged: 2018-09-09 02:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8872180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themayqueen/pseuds/themayqueen
Summary: Taylor has a long history of being very bad at relationships. While he may not know how to make to a relationship work, he knows that he will always have plenty to sing about. And maybe, just maybe, someday he’ll learn how to get it right.





	1. Little Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for the Mixtape Challenge in 2011. Authors were allowed to pick up to four Hanson songs to base their fics upon. Originally, I wanted to write a longer fic based on Bridges of Stone, but in the end, I chose to write a shorter fic made up of chapters that could really stand alone as oneshots, each one based on a different song. The songs I chose were In The City, Lost Without Each Other, Go and Kiss Me When You Come Home.

"Do you love me?"

Lila's only reply was to turn around and walk out the door. Taylor watched her through the window, scurrying away without even looking back.

Taylor looked down at his plate of food on the table and sighed. His appetite was gone. This was the last chance he would have to visit Tulsa before returning to Los Angeles to finish recording the band's second album. He had hoped to spend plenty of time with Lila, but it looked like he had stuck his foot too far in his mouth for that to work out as planned.

With nothing left to do, he paid for his food and left. Lila was long gone, he was sure; there was no hope of following her. She might have gone home, but she wouldn't answer the door if he came around. The best thing to do, Taylor decided, was to lay low for the next few days in Tulsa and then call her once she had, hopefully, had time to forgive him for talking too much.

He would hear from Lila when she was ready. Taylor was certain of that. He had at least learned that he had to let things happen on her schedule. The problem with that was that he didn't know what her schedule was. There was really know way of knowing how she felt without just asking, and that had obviously not worked out so well for him. He always held out hope that in time she would come around to the way he saw things. And the way he saw it, he was falling in love with the little girl that he wasn't quite sure he could even trust.

 

****

Days passed and Taylor didn't hear a word from Lila. The flight back to Los Angeles with his brothers seemed to take forever and being on the other side of the country only made him long to see Lila again even more.

After three days of recording, he couldn't resist anymore. He called her. Five rings passed and Taylor was ready to hang up when Lila finally answered.

"Hello?"

"Lila," Taylor said, relieved to finally hear her voice. "How have you been?"

There was a silence on the other end. "About the same, I guess."

Taylor wasn't sure how to reply. "Oh... well, I've missed you, you know. I don't know how long we're gonna be out here recording."

"It's your job, though? Isn't it?" Lila asked. "I mean, you gotta stay out there as long as it takes to get the album done."

 _She didn't say she missed me too,_ Taylor thought, and held himself back from pointing that out.

"Taylor? Is that all you called to say?" Lila asked and Taylor could hear the impatience in her voice.

"Yeah, I guess so," he said. "And I guess I wanted to apologize for what I said last time I saw you."

"Which would be...?"

Taylor sighed. "When I asked if you loved me. You'll tell me in your own time if you do, I guess."

Lila's discomfort with the topic was obvious even over the phone; Taylor could feel it in the awkward silence before she finally replied. "I guess I will."

Taylor could hear another voice in the background. He wasn't absolutely certain, but the voice sounded male and it made the hairs on his neck stand on end. He tried not to fear the worst, but he couldn't help it.

"Hold on a minute, Tay," Lila said.

"Lila, wait-–" Taylor began, but he wasn't sure how to finish the sentence.

He could tell Lila had placed her hand over the receiver. Her voice was muffled so that he couldn't make out the words, but he could definitely hear both Lila's voice and one other. He bristled at the sound of it, especially the sweet tone he could hear Lila using as she spoke to this mystery person. A minute or two passed and with each second Taylor's suspicion grew.

"Tay? Are you still there?"

"Yeah, I am," Taylor practically spat the words out.

"Look, I promise things will be better when you get back, okay?" Lila said. "You believe me?"

"Why wouldn't I believe you?" Taylor asked, wondering if she could hear the doubt in his voice.

"I don't know..." Lila asked. "You just always need me to spell things out for you. And I do love you, Taylor."

He was still not convinced that he believed her, but it was enough. Those three words pacified his doubt and provided the spark Taylor needed to make it through the next three weeks without her by his side.

 

****

The first thing Taylor did when they returned to Tulsa was go see Lila. He didn't even take the time to unpack. He _had_ to see her and hear those three little words in person. He sped across town unable to think of anything else but her pretty face and how it would look to finally hear her say she loved him too.

When he arrived at her parents' house, he rang the doorbell and waited impatiently for her to answer, rocking back and forth on the doorstep. It didn't take long before she threw open the door, a look of shock on her face.

"Taylor!" Lila exclaimed.

He smiled. "Not expecting to see me so soon?"

"No, not really," she replied, stepping aside slightly to let him in the house. "I didn't realize you were back."

Taylor realized she didn't look or sound happy. Surprised, yes. Happy, no. She was dressed in one of the shortest skirts Taylor had seen and her face was perfectly made up, even though she knew Taylor liked her best with no makeup at all. But he knew none of that was done for him.

It had to be for someone else.

"Did you have plans today?" Taylor asked, not even caring to hide the accusation.

"Umm, not really," she replied. "I was just going to hang out with some of the girls..."

Taylor could see right through the lies, and he took a step closer to her. "Looking like that?"

"I'm not allowed to look nice?" Lila asked, batting her eyelashes the way she always did. The way that she knew would get her whatever she wanted, but Taylor wasn't giving in this time.

"Be honest." Taylor stepped close enough that their bodies were almost touching. "Do you love me?"

Lila stared at Taylor long and hard before answering. "I do. I swear I do. But it's not enough, Taylor."

"Not enough?"

"Not enough to handle you being away so much," she replied.

The phone rang before Taylor could say anything else, and Lila ran to answer it. From the kitchen he could hear her talking to whoever it was.

"Yeah, just give me a few minutes... I'll be there... see you later."

Lila walked back into the living room with a sheepish look on her face. "You should probably leave."

"I guess I should."

As Taylor walked to his car he realized that he had finally gotten the true answer to his question. He wished he had never asked.

 

_I see you walking out that door_  
_And you know you can hide no more_  
_If I asked you now, I know you wouldn't give it up_

_If I asked you how, you'd give that look to kill_  
_Oh it gives you a chill,_  
_But oh it gives me a thrill to say_

_Do love me, do you love me, do you love me, little pretty?_  
_Can you tell me, can you tell me?_  
_What's going on in the city_

_Sitting there trying to look so sweet_  
_Every word you say is full of deceit_

_If I asked you how, you'd give that look to kill_  
_Oh it gives you a chill,_  
_But oh it gives me a thrill to say_

_Do love me, do you love me, do you love me, little pretty?_  
_Can you tell me, can you tell me?_  
_What's going on in the city_

_I'm gonna ask you once again_  
_Gotta tell me once again do you love me?_  
_I'm gonna ask you once again_  
_Gotta tell me once again do you love me?_  
_I'm gonna ask you once again_  
_Gotta tell me once again do you love me?_

_Do you love me? Do you love me?_

_Do love me, do you love me, do you love me, little pretty?_  
_Can you tell me, can you tell me?_  
_What's going on in the city_

_I'm gonna ask you once again,_  
_You gotta tell me once again,_  
_Do you love me?_


	2. Better On Our Own

Taylor shuffled through the streets of New York, feeling more alone than he ever had. He had volunteered to go pick up coffee for their recording session, and had hoped that getting out of the studio would make him feel better, but it did not.

As he made his way back down the street, hands full of steaming hot coffee, he nearly collided with a petite blonde girl.

"Taylor?"

"Hey, sorry," he said, tightening his grip on the coffee cups he had almost let fall. He recognized the girl as Emily, best friend of his girlfriend Jemma. _Ex-girlfriend,_ he reminded himself. She had left the apartment he shared with his brothers in a huff several days ago and he supposed that was the end of it.

Emily offered Taylor a half-smile and the two stood there awkwardly for a moment.

"How's Jemma?" Taylor asked, hoping the question wasn't too awkward.

"Can't say," Emily said. "I mean, it's not that I _won't_ , it's just that she hasn't really said much. You guys broke up though, huh?"

"I guess we did," he replied. "It's been almost two weeks and she's still not talking to me. I keep calling but..."

Emily nodded. "Just give her some space? If you guys are meant to be together, you'll figure it out."

Taylor knew Emily was right. As they said their goodbyes and continued on down the street he realized just how lonely he was without Jemma. He was always the type to jump from one relationship to another, never stopping to figure out why they didn't work out. The past two weeks without Jemma had given him that time, yet he hadn't managed to reach any conclusions that he liked. He tried to remember their last phone conversation where everything had gone wrong.

 

****

_"Jemma, is everything alright?" Taylor asked into the awkward silence on the other end of the phone line. It seemed that was how all their conversations went. Even though Jemma was in New York too, for college, it seemed they never got to see each other and the phone conversations were growing increasingly difficult._

_She sighed. "I'm okay. Really, nothing's wrong."_

_"Don't lie to me," Taylor could feel himself getting agitated and he knew it was audible in his voice._

_"I'm just stressed about school, okay? That's all. You don't know how hard this is, trying to stay on top of all my classes and work and everything," Jemma said._

_"I'm sure it's tough," Taylor replied. "I wish I could see you more, though. It's not like I'm not busy too."_

_"And it's not possible that I'm just as busy even though I'm not recording an album?" Jemma asked._

_Taylor groaned. "That's not what I said."_

_"But it's what you meant."_

_"It's not--" Taylor started, but realized he was very dangerously close to lying. "Alright, maybe it is. I just wonder if your school is the only thing keeping us apart."_

_"What are you trying to say?" Jemma asked, and Taylor could hear the anger in her voice._

_"I don't know..."_

_"Yes, you do. And I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."_

_Taylor started to reply, but the hum of the dial tone told him that Jemma had hung up._

 

***

Maybe he _did_ know where things had gone wrong, after all, Taylor decided. Once again, it was his big foot in his even bigger mouth. He was certain he could make it right this time, though. If he could only get Jemma to talk to him, they could quit this silent game and make it work.

There was just one thing wrong with that plan. Jemma wouldn't answer Taylor's phone calls. He called and called for days and could not get her to pick up the phone. If she was going to be that way, he would give her time. She would come to him in time or she wouldn't. Maybe if she talked to Emily and knew how much he missed her...

He couldn't just sit around and wait, though. He was too stubborn for that. After days and days of nothing, he decided to go out to a club with Isaac. They assured him it was just what he needed and he couldn't come up with a good argument against it.

That was how he found himself at some trendy bar, emptying every drink offered to him. Isaac had brought his girlfriend, making Taylor feel like the third wheel. The only solution to that problem, he decided, was to drink even more.

Somewhere along the way, he found himself in the clutches of some tall redhead whose name he didn't quite catch. She led him onto the dance floor and he was powerless to resist. It took every bit of his strength to remain upright, and although he was certain his drunken dance moves weren't impressive, she didn't seem to mind. When she moved in to kiss him, Taylor couldn't think of a single reason to hold back.

As he pulled away, he saw Jemma on the edge of the dance floor, her mouth open in shock. He struggled to free himself from his dance partner's clutches, mumbling excuses about needing to leave. By the time he had extracted himself, Jemma was nowhere to be found. He rushed out into the street, shoving past the line of people waiting to come into the club, but she had too much of a head start. She was gone.

 

****

The next day, still nursing a hangover and feeling like a terrible person, Taylor volunteered again for the coffee run. He hoped it would clear his head and maybe, just maybe, he would run into Emily again. If Jemma wouldn't speak to him, he hoped he could at least send a message through her best friend.

To his surprise, when he walked in the door of the Starbucks, he saw Jemma perched in a chair near the window. Taylor saw the anger flash in her eyes when she glanced up at him, but he was undeterred. He walked over the table with as much confidence as he could muster, which wasn't much at all, and sat down in the empty seat across from her.

"I didn't say you could sit here."

"I know," Taylor replied. "Can I sit here?"

Jemma rolled her eyes. "You already are, and I'm not going to argue about it. What do you want?"

"To apologize," Taylor said. "I've got no excuses for what you saw last night. I fucked up and I fucked up when I started accusing you, too. If you hadn't hung up, maybe I could have apologized then and saved us all this time apart."

"Maybe."

"You don't think so?" Taylor asked.

Jemma bit her lip and seemed to ponder something for a moment, before finally replying, "I don't know. Maybe this time apart was – is good for us. I'm just not sure we should be together. I think we're over."

Taylor frowned. "I can't accept that. I miss you. I don't think we should be apart. Are you really alright with that? I'm not alright with it. I'm damn lonely, and I wanna be with you again."

"I'd have an easier time agreeing with you if you'd said all this before last night," Jemma admitted. "But now I don't know if I can trust you again."

"You know that was nothing, though. You know that, right?" Taylor asked.

Jemma shook her head.

"If you give me time, can I prove it to you? Can you let me prove you're the only one and that I love you?" Taylor asked.

After a moment's pause, Jemma replied, "Maybe. I need some time to think about it."

Taylor smiled. He could give her time. He would prove to her that he loved her and that they weren't better off alone. He would make things right this time.

 

_I ran into your best friend today_  
_Twelve nights since you ran away_  
_I asked about you and she said, can't say, can't say_  
_I'm feeling lonely and it seems to stay_  
_Been awhile since I felt that way_  
_Well I can tell you there's no room to play this game_

_All I know is what I'm missing_  
_What I'm missing is your kissing_  
_Are you listening?_

_Don't go, don't go telling me you're alright_  
_There's no room for getting uptight_  
_Don't go saying that you're okay_  
_When you're lonely_  
_Baby, don't go telling me we're over_  
_When you know you're my one and only lover_  
_And I won't go saying that we're okay when we're_  
_Lost without each other_  
_'Cause we're lost without each other_  
_'Cause we're lost without each other_

_I didn't mean to start that last big fight_  
_You should've never hung up that night_  
_All I want to do is make things right_  
_Make it right_  
_Listen, with all the choices that we chose to make_  
_And all the promises we chose to break_  
_We were busy making big mistakes yesterday_

_All I know is what I'm missing_  
_What I'm missing is your kissing_  
_Are you listening?_  
_Don't go, don't go telling me you're alright_  
_There's no room for getting uptight_  
_Don't go saying that you're okay_  
_When you're lonely_  
_Baby, don't go telling me we're over_  
_When you know you're my one and only lover_  
_And I won't go saying that we're okay when we're_  
_Lost without . . ._

_I can tell you one thing_  
_We're not better on our own_  
_I'm tired of running from my feelings_  
_Are you listening?_

_All I know is what I'm missing_  
_What I'm missing is your kissing_  
_Are you listening?_

_Don't go, don't go telling me you're alright_  
_There's no room for getting uptight_  
_Don't go saying that you're okay_  
_When you're lonely_  
_Baby, don't go telling me we're over_  
_When you know you're my one and only lover_  
_And I won't go saying that we're okay when we're_  
_Lost without each other_  
_Lost without each other_


	3. If You Wanna Go

After years of bad relationships, Taylor was certain he had gotten it right this time. He had learned to play it cool and not let his mouth get him in trouble. His girlfriend Annabelle was now his fiancee Annabelle and things seemed to be going well. The fact that they had spent little time actually _planning_ their wedding or even setting a date for it hardly bothered Taylor at all. She had already lived with him for several months before he popped the question, so nothing had really changed. Things were comfortable and routine, and Taylor liked that.

He was beginning to realize, however, that Annabelle did not.

Every day he noticed more and more that she was pulling away from him. He tried to ignore it, but as they lay in bed one night he realized he could ignore it no longer. It felt as though she wanted nothing at all to do with him and Taylor couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Belle, scoot over here," Taylor said softly. "You're practically in another zip code over on that side of the bed."

"I'm just not in the mood tonight," she replied.

Taylor frowned. "That's what you said last time. And the time before that. All I'm asking for now is that you at least lay near enough that I think you still like me."

Annabelle didn't reply and Taylor took the hint. He rolled over on his side, away from his fiancee, and tried his best to fall asleep without working himself into anger over once again being ignored and pushed away.

The routine repeated for days, even weeks, and Taylor wanted to speak up but just couldn't find the right words. He could feel Annabelle slipping further and further away from him but every time he tried to get closer, she only pushed more. It almost seemed better not to even try. So they fell into a new routine – barely speaking, only when necessary, never touching at all unless they brushed shoulders in the hallway or reached for a dish at the same time.

It wasn't ideal, Taylor knew, but at least she was still there. He couldn't find it in himself to hope for more.

One night they sat at the kitchen table hardly speaking. Their chairs were on opposite ends of the table and the distance felt to Taylor like it might as well have been miles.

"Are you happy?" Annabelle asked, her voice cutting the silence so sharply that it made Taylor jump.

"Happy?" Taylor repeated. "I could be worse. Things aren't... good between us, are they? What happened?"

Annabelle shrugged. "I've been trying to figure that out. Maybe I said yes too soon. Maybe you asked too soon. I don't know."

"So... you don't want to marry me?" Taylor asked, hardly able to even form the words. "Don't you love me?"

"I do love you," Annabelle said. "I'm just not sure if it's too soon for us to do all this... I mean, we're only twenty-two, you know."

Taylor stood up from the table, his appetite gone. "If you love me, then let's try to make this work. I don't want this to be over. I'm not willing let just let it end, but it seems like you are. So if you wanna go, then go."

Without giving her a chance to answer, Taylor hurried out of the room. He decided to sleep on the couch in his makeshift garage studio that night. At least there he didn't have to think about how Belle was within arm's reach but wouldn't let him hold her.

Days went by and the two went about their lives like they weren't living together at all. Taylor hardly saw Annabelle at all exempt when they crossed paths in the kitchen or hall and didn't speak. He wasn't actively trying to avoid her, but being busy recording gave him an extra excuse not to be home much.

One afternoon he came home from a recording session earlier than usual. As he drove up the street, his stomach began to turn. A large white van sat in their driveway and he knew right away what it was. A moving van. He parked his car on the street and sat still in the driver's seat for a moment, trying to work up his nerve to confront Annabelle once again.

It was useless. He couldn't say a word to her. He was too much of a coward, too afraid of saying the wrong words _again_. He'd been burned one too many times by his own stupid mouth. Instead of seeking out his fiancee, he hurriedly shuffled to the garage and sat down to work on a new song. Zac had given him the idea when they talked about his predicament with Belle over breakfast that morning, and he thought he might be onto something.

"For all the love we've made, just one thing stays the same. The lamp gets dusty, the pipes get rusty, but I don't wanna wash my hands clean..." Taylor sang as he tried to find the right tune to accompany the words.

A sharp knock at the door interrupted his playing. He didn't have to guess who it was before he swung open the door. Before him stood Annabelle, a large backpack slung over her shoulder.

"You're just going to let me leave?"

Taylor sighed. "I thought it was what you wanted."

"I'm just really confused," she admitted. "I don't know what I want."

"Well, I can't be the one to figure it out for you," Taylor replied, his tone harsher than he intended and even he winced a bit at the end of the sentence.

Annabelle backed away. "Okay. Fine. Fine. You've made up your mind, I guess. So I'm leaving."

Taylor watched her turn and walk away, and he wanted to call out to her, but he couldn't find the words. He closed the door and leaned against it, knowing that just outside she was packing up to really leave. But he couldn't watch. Defeated, he sat down to work on the song that would have told her how he felt.

_For all the love we've made_  
_Just one thing stays the same_  
_The lamp gets dusty_  
_The pipes get rusty_  
_But I don't wanna wash my hands clean_

_Well you say you love me too_  
_Then why won't you go through_  
_With the nightly kisses_  
_With the hits and the misses_  
_Well if you can make it on your own then_

_Go if you want to go_  
_But stay if you want to know_  
_The way through the mess we've made_  
_Or lie in the bed you know_  
_Or go_

_I heard your moving van_  
_But I didn't take a stand_  
_You can't leave with them_  
_You can't live without them_  
_I never thought I'd want to let you_

_Go if you want to go_  
_Or stay if you want to know_  
_The way through the mess we've made_  
_Or lie in the bed you know_  
_Or go_

_For all the love we've made_  
_Just one thing stays the same_  
_The lamp gets dusty_  
_The pipes get rusty_  
_But I don't wanna wash my hands clean_

_Go if you want to go_  
_But stay if you want to know_  
_The way through the mess we've made_  
_Or lie in the bed you know_  
_Or go_


	4. Okay In Time

Taylor and Sophie had been married for almost a year and he wanted everything to be perfect for their one year anniversary. He knew he would still end up putting his foot in his mouth, but he hoped he could give her a good night that would keep her mind off whatever wrong words he said during the course of it.

Keeping the anniversary plans from Sophie was easy, Taylor decided, since she spent a lot of time away from their house. She worked as a graphic designer, and while that didn't mean as much hours away from home traveling as Taylor's job meant, she still worked long hours and often came home very late. She liked to stay out late partying with her friends too, which normally upset Taylor. But now he was finding that it gave him plenty of time in the evenings to plan and arrange everything.

There was just one problem. He couldn't be in town for their actual anniversary, thanks to a trip out to El Paso to finalize some things on the songs they had recorded there. Somehow, he had to convince Sophie to stay home the Saturday before their anniversary so that he could surprise her with the romantic dinner he was planning. But how could he keep it a surprise if he had to talk her into breaking her plans for a girl's night out?

These thoughts plagued him one morning as he stood at the mirror getting ready. It was only days before the big night and he still hadn't come up with a solution. He'd left the door open and Sophie burst in, scooping up a bottle of perfume off the counter and spraying herself while he still stood, frustrated, in front of the mirror.

"What's wrong? Find a gray hair?" she asked with a teasing smile.

Taylor chuckled. "Well, if I did, it's your fault. All those late nights up waiting for you, worrying about you... you're aging me, woman."

Sophie rolled her eyes and walked out of the bathroom. From the bedroom, she called back to him, "Oh, me and the girls are going out this weekend. You don't mind, do you? We can spend all Sunday together before you leave..."

"I'm going to be gone for two weeks," Taylor said, walking into the bedroom. "Can't I have more than Sunday with you?"

"Well, we'd planned this night before I knew you guys were leaving," Sophie said with a shrug. "I just don't want to let the girls down, you know? If it means that much, I can stay home with you."

"Doesn't it mean that much to you?" Taylor asked in frustration. He was trying to keep from getting angry, for fear of having to eat the anniversary dinner alone, but he hated how easily Sophie seemed to dismiss his concern.

Sophie picked her purse up off the bed and quickly checked its contents before glancing back up at her husband. "I'll be home early tonight, at least. I hope. I'll do what I can to make some extra time for you, okay?"

"Okay," Taylor replied, trying to be as dismissive as she was, but he could feel himself tensing all over as his anger grew.

Sophie took a few steps toward Taylor and placed her hands on his chest. She kissed him gently on the cheek and offered him a small smile, which did only little to release his tension.

"I'm sorry, honey," she replied. "You know how busy I am. You're busy, too. But I love you. I'll see you later."

****

The days went by and Taylor tried all he could to persuade Sophie to stay home Saturday night, but she was not convinced. She still promised him that they would spend Sunday together, but he knew if she stayed out late she would only end up sleeping in and hardly spending time with him at all.

She left early Saturday afternoon with little more than a quick kiss and a shrug, and Taylor sat down on the couch to sulk. If she was going to be that way, Taylor would just make the anniversary dinner for himself and eat it all before she got home. As he considered that option, he realized how childish he was being. Sophie had promised to be home by 2 A.M. at the latest, so he could have everything ready to surprise her when she did get home.

He didn't know why that obvious solution hadn't come to him sooner. Sometimes he was quite certain the phrase "dumb blonde" had been invented just for him.

With the whole afternoon and evening in front of him, Taylor had plenty of time to prepare for Sophie's return. He began with a thorough cleaning of the living room, dining room and their bedroom, and that took up most of the afternoon.

Next was the dining room décor. A brand new silk tablecloth covered the dining room table. Their best china, hardly used since Sophie's mother insisted on buying it as a wedding present, was arranged perfectly; Taylor had to go online to find instructions on how to arrange all of it. He scattered deep red rose petals throughout the entire room and set candles all around on every surface large enough to hold one. When he realized he had plenty of rose petals left, he laid out of a path from the front door all the way to Sophie's seat at the table.

It was perfect, Taylor decided, taking a step back from the table to admire his work. The only thing missing was the necklace he'd found at a little African boutique that he was certain Sophie would love. She'd been with him for their second trip to Africa and had spent quite some time admiring the local jewelry with Isaac's wife. He knew he'd picked out just the right one for her, and once he'd retrieved it from the hiding place he'd made in the studio, he placed it on top of her plate.

The rest of the rose petals–maybe he'd bought too many-–were arranged in a path from the dining room all the way to their bedroom, then scattered across the bed. Taylor dug out every other candle they had, even gathering up some from the guest rooms, to scatter around their room bedroom.

After all that was done, Taylor sat down to rest a bit. If he had timed it all out just right, he would have time to make dinner, clean up most of the mess from that, and shower before Sophie came home. Things would work out just perfectly.

The fact that he wasn't a very good cook didn't bother Taylor at all. He had his mom's lasagna recipe borrowed just for the occasion and he knew he couldn't wrong with that. The Caesar salad was easy enough to throw together and he knew Sophie wouldn't mind if desert was only a frozen pie. It was a dinner Taylor was confident he could handle cooking.

Just as he put the lasagna in the oven and began up all his spills and messes, the phone rang. The caller id showed Sophie's number and he rushed to answer it.

"Hello?" Taylor asked, breathless.

"Hey, baby," Sophie said, and Taylor could hear both music and street sounds in the background. 

"What's up?"

"Well," she began, drawing the word out. "Jolie's not feeling good, so we're gonna leave here kinda early. I was thinking I could just come on home now? How's that sound?"

Taylor looked at the clock. It was barely even midnight. "Umm...I guess."

"We're gonna run Jolie home first so I'll be there in like thirty minutes. I'm thinking frozen pizza and movies," Sophie said.

"Sounds great," Taylor replied, frowning at the lasagna baking in the oven and the pie defrosting on the counter.

"Okay, see you soon! Bye, love ya," Sophie said, hanging up before Taylor could reply.

Taylor stared at the phone in disbelief and considered his options. He was fairly certain he had just enough time to take a shower before the lasagna was done. It would be cutting it close, however, so he hurried upstairs to get in the shower. He washed as quickly as possible, toweled off his hair and sprayed on some cologne. He was still buckling his belt as he scurried back down the stairs, a disturbing smell drifting up to great him.

"What the hell is going on?" He heard Sophie's voice call out.

Taylor tripped over his own feet to reach the kitchen, fearing the worst. Sophie stood in the middle of the kitchen, a few rose petals clinging to her shoes and her mouth agape at the smoke billowing out of their oven. 

"Umm... happy anniversary?" Taylor offered, throwing his hands up in the air. 

"Oh, honey," Sophie said, shaking her head and rushing to hug Taylor. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have come home even sooner!"

Taylor sighed. "I wanted to surprise you. Not exactly like this, but I guess accidental arson is pretty surprising. I just didn't want to ruin your night out with your friends."

"Aww, Taylor. It's alright." Sophie grabbed a few pot holders and removed the ruined dish from the oven. It was definitely inedible, but not quite as bad as Taylor had thought.

"So what now? I ruined the night completely," Taylor said, helping Sophie fan away the smoke.

Sophie shrugged. "We can still have fun. Just promise me one thing."

"Sure, anything."

"Next time you're frustrated with me staying out late, let me know. Don't whine and pout; just be honest with me when I'm driving you nuts, and I'll do better."

"Deal," Taylor said, kissing his wife on the cheek. "So what should we do know that the whole house smells like I burnt down an Italian restaurant?"

"I was thinking we should recreate our first date," Sophie suggested.

"You mean... drive around aimlessly in your car because I was too stupid to put gas in mine and you had to come pick me up?"

"Something like that."

"Sounds perfect to me," Taylor said with a smile.

They tossed the ruined lasagna out in the dumpster on the way to Sophie's car. Taylor hopped in the passenger seat and let his wife chose their route. The two of them drove around for hours, only stopping for coffee at a little diner on the outskirts of town. Taylor realized that he couldn't imagine a better way to spend his not-quite-anniversary. He realized that maybe for once, he had gotten things right, even if he did ruin a casserole dish to get there.

  

_You may give me gray hairs before my time_  
I'll be happy just sitting on the passenger side  
'Cause I live for you and me and a lonely drive 

_You can stay out late, you can burn the candle_  
You can contemplate, but won't you kiss me good?  
I will tell you straight, if it's too hard to handle  
All I've got to say is won't you kiss me when you come home?  
Kiss me when you come home, won't you kiss me when you come home?  
On my lips  
Kiss me when you come home, won't you kiss me when you come home? 

_It gets tough, but we've picked up, a lot of things along the way_  
You know that, When I get mad, I don't mean a word that I say  
Sometimes I need more, than what's left at the end of the day 

_You can stay out late, you can burn the candle_  
You can contemplate, but won't you kiss me good?  
I will tell you straight, if it's too hard to handle  
All I've got to say is won't you kiss me when you come home?  
Kiss me when you come home, won't you kiss me when you come home?  
On my lips 

_Sometimes reason, doesn't line up with the rhyme_  
With a wash and a sew, the rips and the frays will come out okay in time  
'Cause I long for you and me and a lonely drive 

_You can stay out late, you can burn the candle_  
You can contemplate, but won't you kiss me good?  
I will tell you straight, if you're too hard to handle  
All I've got to say is won't you kiss me when you come home?  
Kiss me when you come home  
Won't you kiss me when you come home?  
I said on my lips now  
Kiss me when you come home 


End file.
